I set down the flimsy clipboard on the cold, hard surface of the receptionist's desk as I looked out into the mass of patients wandering around the common area of the lodge. Shaking. Trembling. Hurting. They all felt it; the need to scratch the back of their head; the need to yell at the top of their lungs that demons were crawling up their spine; the need, the want to be loved, to be visited by their loved ones. There was a feeling in my throat. Was it fear? Pity? It felt like I wanted to yell too; yell at them that the only demons that we should be worried about was the ones who put us here. There was a clanging of another clipboard on the desk beside me as the rolling chair was pulled back and my boss sat down. Hair tied up, a pair of fake black rimmed glasses, and the standard hospital scrubs; she looked straight out of a medical movie, drama, whatever, either way, she looked good.

She noticed me looking and frowned. "What is it?" I was flustered and raised my hands in declination. "Oh it was nothing. I was just zoning out."

She nodded in understanding and went back to work. She kept glancing back to her clipboard, pulling out little bits of information that she had to document. I noticed her name tag, a weird gold plate with big symbols that read 'Fukugawa'. I looked at my own, sporting a silver sheen with smaller symbols that read 'Shiraishi'. When can I get one like hers?

"She's not here again?" She was holding my clipboard, which contained a roster of all our patients, signing off on who was at the common area or not. I nodded. "Three straight days, including this one."

Fukugawa sighed and put the clipboard down. She put her face into her hands, frustrated at the patient's lack of social participation. It seemed like she really cared for the patient. Whether it was because of her job or true worriment, I didn't know.

"She also hasn't eaten for the same amount of time. She refused."

Fukugawa groaned and threw her head back onto the seat, looking up at the alabaster ceiling. I didn't know much about this patient; I didn't even know her name (Her files were always classified). I do know, however, that this patient was very troublesome and had a serious case of schizophrenia.

"Would you like me to—" "No. No. Don't even try. We need to call the warden."

The Warden. The Top Dog. The 'Don't look at me or I'll gut you' person. I've met her once, skiing out on a vacation in Canada, if you count leveling me into the snow with her snowboard (She did say sorry though, albeit very curtly). Even at this current moment, pangs of pain were coming from the scar on my back. I heard all kinds of stories: The 'Punched a Bear' story, The 'Escaped from Alcatraz' story, and a bunch of others. I never checked the authenticity of those stories but they sure were entertaining.

"Are you sure? She must be really busy." "Yes I'm sure. She'll have time for me. She must." She muttered the last part.

I didn't know much about Fukugawa. I've only been here for about two weeks at this ward. I worked at the Tokyo ward for quite some time but I caused quite a ruckus there and they transferred me. Now I'm here in...Osaka? I don't know. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere that's for sure. Woods surrounded us and no signs of life from the outside were present except for a police officer that patrols the ward and sometimes visits Patient Eight on the second floor. She's an odd one.

"I'll be checking up on Patient Seven then okay?"

She nodded and waved me away as she pulled out her phone and pressed the number one on her speed dial.

The police officer was propped up against a tree as she smoked a cigarette. I've never seen her look so...badass. She'd always have a smile on her face, teeth fully visible, and a laugh so melodic you'd think it was from an orchestra. Her voice was fine; it didn't sound like she smoked and she definitely didn't smell like it either. Her hair was tied up into a bun, cheeks tinted with pastel pink, and a deep scowl was implanted on her face as if life got the better of her. I watched her as she threw the cigarette down and crushed it under her feet before she got back into her car.

"Interesting." The voice startled me and I jumped back.

It was her.

"So that's the police officer?" She gently pushed me aside as she got closer to the window. I watched her cautiously, wondering why she left her room.

I was on my way to her room. In fact, I was on my way to drag her out of the room. I can't have Fukugawa call the warden here; it'd be chaos, absolute mayhem (Well, for me. That ski trip ruined my chances of us ever being close). Good thing she came out on her own.

"She's annoying. I could hear her from the other room all the time. It's bothering me." She turned her attention back to the officer.

Standard hospital gown, silky brunette hair, and coffee-colored eyes. I never imagined she'd look like this. She actually looked...normal, not that people in this ward were normal to begin with. She actually looked good, beautiful even.

"She's just excited that's all. I'm sure you know how energetic Patient Eight is and I guess it's contagious."

There was a moment of silence.

"I don't know. I've never met her."

I gulped, realizing she never really went out much. I was speechless for a second but I collected myself.

"Do you want to meet her now? I'm sure she'd be happy to meet you. Takayama's always up to it. She even lets that police officer in from time to time."

Again there was silence. I guess she not one to talk. Cool beauty. Nice.

"Are you hungry? I could get one of the chefs to cook something up for you if you want."

She said nothing again but she shifted her attention away from the officer onto me. I gulped again, going stiff under her gaze. She straightened herself up and gave a soft smile before she spoke.

"I'll eat later but thanks anyway." She gave a curt wave of the hand as she walked away. It was only a moment before she reached her room. Her hand was on the knob before she turned her head slightly towards me. There was a smirk on her face before she said the most chilling words I've ever heard in my life.

Wakaten: Glad to know I'm your favorite. Also, Story Time is definitely going to be finished. I just got so enthusiastic about writing about Nogi that I couldn't bring myself to write it. Don't worry! Your fears will be alleviated! And your satisfactions satisfied! Have a good read!

Friends in High Places

She listened to the deep baritone voice coming from the radio as she drove on with her 1978 Honda Civic Hatchback, the sound quality poor and small bits of static pouring out. She found the CD in the glove compartment when she first bought the car and she had no choice but to listen to it. It was either this or Nickelback, and she didn't want to listen to Nickelback. So she's stuck with a voice that sounded akin to a more luscious-sounding Morgan Freeman, or God as she liked to call him. She kept her eyes on the road, hands gripping tightly on the wheel, tightly enough that her knuckles were turning white from the pressure. She always hated driving, but she knew it was a necessity. It was either this or be lodged between two sweaty fat guys on the bus who always seem to find their way over to her. She didn't want that. She didn't want a lot of things. Her destination came into view, a large facility able to fit in over a thousand people yet only about a quarter of it was occupied. The facility was like a wooden lodge because apparently the architect wanted it to fit in with the forest. She thought that was neat. She liked it.

"I.D please."

She smiled at the guard.

"Come on Noujo. You know who I am."

Noujo sighed and scratched her head.

"You know I have to do this Fukugawa-san. I'll get in trouble if I don't."

Fukugawa relented and gave her license to the guard, who only took a quick glance at it before giving it back. Fukugawa tried to keep her smile, since she didn't actually give her her license; she gave her a coupon for 7/11. She drove on towards her parking spot, number 329. She got out and went through the back door, where employees entered. She reached the locker room and went to her locker to put away her things, a purse and a backpack filled with goods, food mostly and some basic necessities. She didn't notice the strange girl sitting at the far corner staring at her creepily. So when she closed her locker and turned around, she definitely didn't think her heart would make it through the day. Fukugawa was on the floor clutching her rapid heart as she panted profusely from the unexpected guest. She soon calmed down and took a good look at the girl. She thought the girl was beautiful, the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen. Her wavy locks and her hazelnut eyes, a face so symmetrically on point that she thought it was artificially made; it got her heart to skip a beat.

"Who are you?"

The girl stood up and fiddled with the hem of her shirt as she spoke. "I-I am the new nurse." She bowed a full ninety degrees. Fukugawa raised an eyebrow. She didn't hear of a new nurse coming and she's the boss.

"What's your name?"

"Shiraishi Mai."

What a nice name she thought. It wasn't everyday you'd find a girl with a model-like face and although Fukugawa couldn't see her body because of the loose fitting scrubs the girl had on right now, she could tell her figure was excellent. Fukugawa was both furious and a bit blessed at the fact that this new girl came, mostly furious though. Who would just saunter such a girl to work here without her permission?! It's absurd! But suddenly the other entrance of the locker room opened and came a woman in office clothing, whose prideful stare pierced Fukugawa's anger away. Her nose protruded, her short hair perfectly combed and treated, her fingers carefully manicured, and a posture so upright you'd think she was taught by a nun in grade school; Fukugawa gulped from sight. Fukugawa looked cautiously at her best friend standing so proudly before her, never thinking she'd visit so soon. Is this girl why she visited so soon? Or was it to see her? Or...if her hunch is correct, it'd be because of a certain troublesome patient roaming around the ward.

"Gave you a little scare?" The woman in office clothing teased. She walked closer to the rundown Fukugawa on the floor and gave her a little kick. "Get up."

Fukugawa slowly raised, never breaking her sight from the woman, and gave her an apologetic look. The woman smiled but Fukugawa could tell that it was fake, a deathly smile that she had seen a thousand times. The most recent was about three months ago, when the woman got so offended by a raucous couple in the movie theater they had often went to.

Fukugawa smiled too and said,"She just came out of nowhere."

The woman giggled before she gestured at Shiraishi who was watching the interaction with keen eyes. There was a slight tension in the air, a feeling Fukugawa never liked.

"Hey there's a new girl coming in today. She was recommended by the warden."

"Oh really? She must be good then."

"She's beautiful. Like a Goddess!"

"Okay Wakatsuki. You—"

The girl detached her ear from the wall separating the two rooms together. She liked hearing the stories that came from the other room; Patient Seven never tells stories. Well..not since that happened. She looked at the girl sitting on her desk, writing furiously on a spiraled notebook filled with notes, pictures, and data that seemed more like gibberish rather than something important. Patient Seven always did this, wrote useless things endlessly before she got tired. She didn't know what she wrote about. She tried to take a quick peek but the notebook always shut so viciously before she could see anything. Even now, she could tell Patient Seven taking quick glances at her to check up on where she was and wasn't creeping up on her, ready to pounce for what's in the notebook.

"What are you writing about?" "Something important." "And what is that." "None of your business."

She always got these curt remarks whenever she asked about what she wrote in the notebook. She didn't think it wasn't anything important since, of course, what else could you be doing in a psych ward. She was probably just writing down shit that nobody would ever look twice at, something just to keep her hands busy. She didn't want to dwell on the notebook much; it gave her small shivers down her spine. Who knows what could be in that notebook? Instead, she looked at the small moss-like plant beside Patient Seven. She always liked moss, its shape and colors; the history and it's anatomy amazed her. She'd play around with the moss, feeling it's rough texture against her skin.

"Where'd you get the plant?"

Patient Seven stopped her writing, closed the book, and turned her head. She had glasses on, big round spectacles that seemed like they came out of a Harry Potter movie. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and a small, red cut was healing on her face. She sometimes winced from the pain but she endured it nonetheless.

"The warden brought it to me when she visited."

"Really? When was that?"

"About three months ago."

"Was she nice?"

"..."

"Nishino?"

"Oh I'm sorry. Yes, yes she was very nice. She also gave me this notebook!" She held the notebook up for her to see. The girl looked at the notebook, still wondering what the contents of it were.

"Hey what do you wri—"

"She also told me stories!" The girl knew what Nishino was trying to do; distract her from saying that question. She decided not to push and instead played along.

"What kind of stories?"

"Well she told me all about myself. Apparently I'm a pretty swanky artist."

The girl giggled at Nishino's choice of words.

"And?"

"Apparently I have really good friend that used to paint with me. I wonder where she is now."

The girl gulped. She knew who that girl was. She even remembered how they first met. She was there.

"Did she tell you her name? Gave you a picture?"

Nishino shook her head.

"No. Nanamin never did that."

The girl didn't want to tell her, since it might trigger some bad memories. She was afraid that Nishino might remember what happened. She didn't want that. She loved Nishino too much to do that to her. But on the other hand, she wanted Nishino to remember. She wanted her to know about the good times. The girl pondered and she made her decision.

"Nishino."

"Hmm?"

"She's dead."

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Your best friend is dead."

Nishino's mouth was agape, her heart beating as if she took four shots of adrenaline, and she couldn't believe what she just heard.

Hi! I'm really happy to see another Nogizaka fic, more so when I read it and realize that this is superb Seems like Nanase become crazy because of Maiyan.. I wonder what happened. It's weird that Maiyan said that she died, but well she's still alive, I'm trying not to make assumption because I'm really looking forward to know the reason Also is this going to have NanaseXMaiyan and HashimotoXFukagawa pair? Because I love them so much I'll be waiting for the update, have a great day

Strange, I'm getting confuse now, is the one nanase's bestfriend is maiyan or maimai..?

All i can think of is maimai since nanase said her bestfriend draws with her and this bestfriend actually know the real name of patient 7 while maiyan had stated that she didn't know anything about patient 7.

For a second i thought patient 7 was marika bcoz of the moss

I imagine nanase looks like in sayonara no imi mv, since she wears that spectacle. Still, nvr thought nanase to be so...different. A bit of mischievous and mysterious.

Fukugawa groaned and threw her head back onto the seat, looking up at the alabaster ceiling. I didn't know much about this patient; I didn't even know her name (Her files were always classified). I do know, however, that this patient was very troublesome and had a serious case of schizophrenia.

Oh and also Seven is Nanase. It's implied in the second chapter. Hashimoto visits her.